Lost in the Woods

Chapter 1

New York city was bathed in a yellow glow. The sun was shining brilliantly, holding out against the chaotic mess it's earth has become. Despite the toppled buildings and masses of alien carcasses piled high in the streets, the mood of the people living on the planet was joyous. As Loki Laufeyson looked around him, all he could see was the race of humans smiling, hugging, laughing. Their mortal faces were full of happiness - delight at being alive and free. Their renewed enthusiasm for life sent thrills of annoyance through him.

That annoyance was doubled as his brother thrust the tesseract towards his bound hands. Loki glanced at the members of the Avengers, loosely ringed around him. Their expressions were hard, unforgiving. The one called Stark even came across as being smug. Sensing no chance of reprieve at the hands of the mortals, the demigod reluctantly reached out and grasped the glowing cube with trembling fingers.

Whatever fate awaited him in Asgard, he was sure the punishments on earth couldn't even begin to compare. He would honestly rather be handed over to SHEILD.

Thor felt the familiar tug of the portal hauling him and his prisoner across the realms. In the blur of azure light he caught glimpses of his brother's face.

Loki's skin was awash with the blue glow of the tesseract, his eyes focused on the power source hungrily. He had seen that possessive expression on the Silvertongue many times - when he spoke of his children, when he obtained a new spell book, in the more passionate moments of sex. Loki coveting something was not unusual, considering the manner in which they grew up. However the Trickster's lust for this power was something Thor had never seen before. Loki coveted the cube. He was obsessed with it.

For a split second Thor thought he saw a crease in the younger man's smooth forehead, a tiny line betraying his fear, but the light once more blurred Loki's face from his view, so he couldn't be sure.

Then, as suddenly as they were swept from Earth's surface they landed in Asgard. Thor stood straight as the nausea faded, but his brother stumbled by his side. He reached out to steady the bound captive, but Loki shot him a glare so venomous it squeezed at his heart. Beneath the muzzle he could hear the animalistic hiss that was forced through the demigod's teeth.

Thor could almost hear Loki's voice.

Don't touch me.

The short walk through the city to the palace was perhaps one of Loki's most humiliating moments. People in the streets stopped to watch their heir and the traitor prince walk by. After a few mumbled insults, the Aesir began to gather motivation and shout out their anger. A small crowd trailed after the two demigods, gaining in size the closer they got to Odin's palace.

Thor's hand grasping Loki's manacles tightened. The Liesmith ducked his eyes, looking down at his feet shuffling forward step by step. His brother's shadow hung over him like a disappointed presence. It felt as though even the sun could not bear to shine over him; the outcast, the trickster.

Loki's heart thudded loud in his ears, blending with the outraged roar of the city. He could feel the cold stares of the people, boring into his back. A small child entered his lowered vision; the boy's innocent face was twisted into a grimace of disgust. Loki flinched away from the youth's hatred, pressing back into the broadset chest of his captor.

Thor looked down at Loki, seeing the trickster's upturned, haunted face look back at him. The younger sibling looked skittish, eyes darting about him nervously like a cornered animal. The golden man took pity on the naked fear gleaming in the prisoner's eyes, and placed what he hoped was a comforting hand on his trembling shoulder.

Loki felt Thor's heavy hand clamp down on him. The weight of it only added to the heaviness he felt in his stomach. He glanced up at the palace steps with undisguised dread. His reunion with the king and queen could be nothing but grim. They may be his adopted parents, and they may have loved him once, but who could love the monster that he had become? There was no room in his heart for hope, but neither was there the room for penance. Though regret rose up inside him battling with his conflicting emotions, he couldn't imagine himself getting down on his knees and begging forgiveness. It just wasn't in him.